Independence Day

Happy 4th of July everyone. I'm spending my day lying naked in bed. I think it's a decent way to commemorate our country's freedom. I'm exercising my right to go without clothes. It's only the dogs and me (and the hamster) or else I'd probably not be naked.

I'm not exactly sure why I have decided to start posting again and I'm fairly certain that no one will even read this because, other than my husband, no one knows that I've fired up the ole blog. I just read a pretty funny book written by a blogger. I hadn't followed her blog (b/c in all honesty, I'm too busy reading the Drudge Report to devote time to any other internet sites) but parts of the book made me laugh so hard that the whole bed was shaking while Lee was trying to sleep. Even though it wasn't a fabulous piece of literary greatness, I have a deep and abiding respect for the author because she seems to write from the heart about the imperfectness of her life. I love the transparency. It's very validating to the rest of us poor slobs out here.

I used to write because I thought that maybe one day I'd get discovered and I'd be on Oprah. But now that Oprah doesn't have her own talk show anymore and blogs are about as ubiquitous as the air we breathe, it seems fairly unlikely. And, coupled with the fact that I don't think I am going to tell anyone that I am writing, I don't think anyone will stumble upon this b/c how many people are going to do a Google search for "hollerin chefs"? So, I guess it can kind of be my secret online diary that hopefully will never be discovered by my current or future employers. Not that I think my current employer would even care and not that I'm planning on having any future employers b/c I really like my current job. Also, I don't know if I want voyeurs peering into my life, but I do want to write about shit and I don't really consider myself to be an exhibitionist. Oh, and I also used to write when I was going through breast cancer treatment but that was because it was very therapeutic and people wanted to know what was going on and make sure I wasn't dead yet and they hadn't found out (that was before the days of Caring Bridge. I think). Then I just kept writing b/c I got positive reinforcement and I liked it. I guess I stopped because I got too busy and not just reading the Drudge Report (because I didn't actually start reading that till a year ago).

So, here I am again and I've just written 3 whole paragraphs on basically nothing. But,it feels good (I just had THE worst charley horse in my right calf. The pitfalls of lying in bed all day, I guess) and natural. I have a friend, Carie. If we were still 8 years old I'd venture to call her my best friend but I don't think 43 year old women categorize each other like that any more. Anyhow, Carie has always been a big proponent of my writing, which I kind of find ironic (if I am using that term correctly). Carie is probably the smartest woman I know. Like weirdly, Chinese, super genius smart without any chance of EVER being in her same league. I think we became friends in medical school partly b/c I thought it would improve my street cred by hanging out with one of the 3 smartest people in our class. That and a lot of other reasons. Anyhow, compared to her I always felt like, to borrow a Chelsea Handler phrase, a hot mess. But somewhere in the history of our 19 year friendship I realized that she wasn't friends with me just because I made her look smarter (like she ever needed that anyway). One thing I should add about Carie is that even though she is that special brand of Chinese super genius she is also drop dead gorgeous and pretty damn funny. So she was cool in that way that only geeks can appreciate. Anyhow, Carie has always subtly asked me about my writing since I started my breast cancer blog. Not a lot, but just enough to be annoying, kind of like when your faucet drips. Last year, after a trip my daughter and I took to visit her and her family I came home and immediately enrolled in an online creative writing class. I think I took 2 classes and spent about $1400 and exorcised a lot of demons and wasted a lot of time researching creative writing degree programs. But, like most projects I start, that one fell to the side when I got distracted by some other shiny object. Then about a week ago she told me to read this book that a female blogger had written because it was funny and it reminded her of me. After reading the book I'm going to choose that it reminded her of me in a lot of really good, mentally healthy and sane ways and that it was also another jab to start writing. Might not have been her intention, but that's how I choose to interpret the fates.

I wonder how long I'm going to get away with being completely and utterly selfish by lying here naked in bed ignoring any and all domestic responsibilities. Now the dogs aren't even in here with me b/c Lee put them outside before he went to Lowe's to buy parts to fix the toilet. It's just me and Tiny. Normally Tiny doesn't board in our room, but my middle kid got new furniture about a month ago and in the process Tiny came to stay with Lee and I till the room got situated. The new room is neither situated nor has Tiny returned to her proper location but because it might take me the next 8 years that Jake will be living at home to get his room properly situated, Tiny might be in here with us till then. Or until she dies. Which ever comes first. I hate to even say this out loud, but I feel like I have to put it out there. We are terrible stewards of pet hamsters. I could completely blame all of this on Jake since it is his hamster and part of the deal was that he'd feed her, give her water, change her shavings, but he never does. And honestly, who really expects their 9 (now 10) year old to actually follow through on their end of the bargain. Everyone knows that parents are just going through the obligatory motions when they make their kids promise to take care of pets that are about to be acquired. I have a small confession to make. Tiny's cage rarely gets cleaned out. She gets plenty of fresh food and water, but her shavings haven't been changed in about 2 months. I choose to ignore the unsanitary aspects of this truth. She doesn't seem to mind. She hasn't filed any complaints yet, her cage doesn't smell unless you stand right next to it for more than a minute and I'll be damned if my 10 year old gets the better of me in this bargain. I'll hold out forever before I clean that cage for him because I have principles and it is some sort of lesson that Jake doesn't even realize I'm teaching him and because I can be pretty damn lazy about the things I choose to be lazy. So, for now Tiny will continue to live in her own stink and luckily hamsters aren't the kind of animals that animal activists bust down your door because of the squalid living conditions to which they are subjected.

So, it's just me and Tiny with the dogs outside and other people watching my kids and Lee doing the middle-aged male homeowner thing by choosing to do something he really has no business doing and could be accomplished in a fraction of the time if done by someone who is trained in the toilet arts. And even though I'm starting to get kind of hungry and my Diet Coke isn't really doing anything to make my stomach stop growling, I'm going to lie here until I'm forced to get out of bed because it is a rare day in hell that a working 43 year old mother of 3 gets to actually sit in her bed all day with absolutely no one bugging her, not even the dogs.

Lee was lying here naked with me earlier (you fill in the blanks. No kids and 2 consenting adults). Anyhow, I asked him "Would you rather lie here naked all day or go work out all day to your heart's content?" He chose the work out option and I told him that was the fundamental difference between him and me. He said I was only choosing to be lazy because I just did 2 12 hour shifts in the ER, but I'd like to think of myself as a completely self-indulgent person so I ignored his insensitive attack on my character. While we were laying (lying?) here we played the "would you rather game". Like, if you had to eat one of the dogs/hamster to survive, which would you choose first? Or if you had to watch a set of our parents/stepparents having sex, which couple would you choose to watch? Or if you had to tear down a neighbors' house to have a double lot which neighbors would you rid yourself of first? Mostly we were in alignment on all of our choices but he chose to eat the small dog over the big dog first because he likes the big dog better. I told him that was a strategical error that would cost him, but he wouldn't budge (right now the dogs are going nuts barking outside and I should go and yell at them to shut up or bang on the window, but I don't even care that I'm being a bad neighbor by letting them bark. More proof that I am completely self indulgent and thoughtless to the needs of others). I also wondered aloud if, when we were 72 after having geezer sex, would we lie in bed with him running his knobby arthritic fingers over my liver spots? He said he would.

Last thing before I go forage through the refrigerator...has anyone read the People magazine excerpt from Rielle Hunter's forthcoming book? Can anyone say stupid whore? Seriously, I am embarrassed for her and for John Edwards even though he is a completely narcissistic, stupid douche bag. I couldn't even be sick because it was too much of a parody to even get nauseated. That poor kid Quinn doesn't stand a chance. Maybe both of their gene pools will cancel each other out and she'll actually be even more resilient. Unlikely, but it could happen. Elizabeth Edwards timed it right by dying before she had to be subjected to the real life equivalent of a bad Mexican tele-novella. I'll probably download the book on my e-reader because that kind of cheap entertainment is rare. I'll make sure to give a summary because I know it's one of those things that's hard to delay gratification.

Happy 4th of July!